No Such Thing
by lorann
Summary: Years later he found her, and wanted to see her again so that things could go back to normal, the way he liked things. But the girl never saw him, because nothing would ever be the same." Not in the norm of things, I'd say.
1. Elsewhere

**Read this dang A/N**: Alright, fair warning everyone.

This is a chapter fiction, which is very, very bad of me. I am terrible at updating constantly, and sometimes I just _can't_ finish it. But, I have the general plot of this one worked out, so I'm thinking it's possible. It definately won't be that long. I'm much more of a oneshot person, so maybe 5 chapter? They should all be fairly long though. Anyways. This might confuse you. Actually, I'm positive it will confuse you. I want you to tell me if it confuses you, because then I can clear it up; which I'm planning on doing during the short duration anyways. Maybe if you've read the book I got the idea from, though, it won't be that hard to understand.

I got this idea from the book Elsewhere, by Gabrielle Zevin.

Also, I'm way too tired to go through and re-read more than twice, so if you catch any mistakes, tell me. I might not change them though...I've realized that doesn't do any good for my stats. Hm. I should have noticed that sooner. Not the point, but I'm a rambler today. Tonight? This morning...

See what I mean?

**DISCLAIMER:**_I do not own Bridge to Terabithia, Elsewhere, Pamula Anderson, leprechauns, Josh Hutcherson, AnnaSophia Robb, or talking bunnies. I do, however, own Uncle Levi. Because that is my uncle, and I claim him. I just made him a year younger here. That's right, he's mine. Oh, but he isn't dead. On a subject totally unrelated, I don't own the Jonas Brothers, or their rings._

_But man, I sure wish I did._

I'm going to shut up now, you are very welcome.**

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**No Such Thing**

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Happy endings. Whoever came up with such a ridiculous thing? There are no such things as happy endings, not in reality. You live, you die. That's all there is to it, but with a whole lot of drama in between. Does that seem at all "happy" to you? I think not. 

Luckily, I don't live in the realm of reality. Where I am, most things are how you want them to be; with the obvious limitations. Where I am, you never grow up. In actuality, you grow down. Where am I? I am in Elsewhere.

I stay with my uncle, who has grown down to seventeen since leaving earth at ripe old age of twenty-seven. He died a two years after I was born, so I never really knew him. But he reminded me so greatly of an older Jesse – Oh, Jesse….

I miss my best friend, who is still trapped in the realism most call Earth. The thing is, I'm too afraid to watch him from the Earth-gazing area near my home. The last time I saw him was on the boat to this backwards world, where I had to watch my own funeral through the distance gazer. He seemed confused at the time, not sad. I'd hoped he wouldn't be too upset over me. After all, I was just me, and I'd been gone for three years to date.

Elsewhere was such a confusing place. People I'd realized that had been famous and iconic in my other life were the complete opposites of their before-selves. Pamela Anderson was a nurse who sent babies that had grown down through the sea to Earth, a famous singer who's name I could not recall was working on a cure for cancer (though it was pointless for no one in Elsewhere could ever be sick, and he wouldn't remember it once he was reborn), and my Uncle, who'd been a missionary in Africa and died in a car accident, was now a retail salesmen. Strange, this Elsewhere. There's really no way for you to understand it, unless you've been there.

Today, after spending a little time playing in the sand at the beach with friend who was much older than me - she was seven here, fifty-seven in reality – I was called into the kitchen by Uncle Levi. Wondering if he had realized today was the third anniversary of my death (rebirth?), I obliged and found him holding a rectangle of a glossy-looking piece of paper.

"Leslie." He smiled at me as I climbed up into a tall stool. "You're nine now."

"Yes." I nodded wisely, though what I was wise about, I couldn't tell you.

"You've been here three years." He commented, his green eyes almost as bright as my mother's sparkling.

"I have." I agreed, wondering where he was going with these obvious statements.

"You have a present." Uncle Levi held the paper out to me. I reached over the counter and snatched it excitedly, realizing it was a postcard and for some reason smelled faintly of wet dog. Strangely enough, I was quite fond of that smell for it reminded me of my last day with Jesse, where I had been carrying a wet Prince Terrian in the pouring ran as I waved goodbye, not knowing it would be forever.

After examining the bland picture of Elsewhere's coast, I turned the card over and curiously read the somewhat-sloppy scrawl on back.

_I would say 'wish you were here', but I'm assuming you are here. After all, God doesn't just go around damning people to hell._

My eyes widened slightly at the second of the two sentences. Only two other people would remember the statement that had come out of my own mouth over three years ago.

"It came from Montegro Bay." Uncle Levi told me, and I could hear excitement in his voice. Did he know something I didn't? Of course he did, he had to. "That's just a few miles away. I'll drive you down there – " I cut him off by firmly shaking my head.

"No, Uncle. I have to go to work." I informed him quietly, carefully folding the thick paper in half as I slid off the stool. He looked at me, seeming perplexed.

"But Leslie – " I cut him off again, this time with a smile.

"If this is who I think it's from, I don't want to see him." I explained. The confusion in his face did not alter in the slightest. I just sighed and shook my head. "Nevermind. I have to go, I'll see you at dinner." I nodded, before walking out of the kitchen, the postcard still clutched in my hand.

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I had been at the office for nearly two hours now, and I knew it was time for me to leave, but I couldn't pull myself away from my work. My pen was in a fuss, scribbling out random notes on my papers until the were filled and somehow created a story. My job here in the afterlife was writing.

Before, I had never been one to be trapped in a space for a long amount of time. I was like that when I first arrived at Elsewhere, and it took me almost a year to get over that. Now, here I was, noticing my desk was getting to high for my nine-year-old self, but I didn't care. I picked up my latest pile of drabble and frowned. The story I had just started was about a boy who had mysteriously lost his best friend. Years later he found her, and wanted to see her again so that things could go back to normal, the way he liked things. But the girl never saw him, because nothing would ever be the same….

Then I had the sudden urge to write about a leprechaun and a talking bunny, so I tossed the pile of papers over my shoulder and sighed. My age was getting to me, and I was beginning to realize it. After glancing at the clock on the wall, I knew Uncle Levi would be calling impatiently soon enough, so I scooted off my chair and pulled my too-large jacket over my small shoulders. Making my way out of my office, I flipped off the lights and waved to my fellow workers in the main area of the building. I was the youngest in the profession, my mind more advanced then the average persons who would have already retired by now.

Pushing the glass door open, I was greeted by a rush of cold air. I automatically pulled my jacket tighter around me when I felt someone lightly tap my shoulder. Slowly, I turned and realized I was looking at someone's stomach. Looking up at the person' face, I also realized I was looking at none other than the fifteen-year-old version of my best friend, Jess Aarons.

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**Have you ever had the urge to press a purple/blue/indigo button that says 'go'?**

**Nows your chance!**


	2. Bertha from Berlin

**A/N:** Well? What did I tell you? I warned you, didn't I? Yes, I did. I told you I was not a constant updater. Consistancy _bothers_ me. It really does. I must have things random or my life is just...shirty. Yes, shirty. I don't really know what that means, but I like it. Well, anyways, back to the point. I'm not going to lie, I've had so many chances to work on this. I was sick one day from school, I had one or two weekends (when did I put this up, anyways?), and days after school...but no. I've avoided it. There's this new thing I'm trying called 'homework' and 'sleeping'. It really is quite strange to me, this...going to sleep before one in the morning thing.

Wait, I really do have a point.

I just wanted to say sorry, and I know some of you weren't expecting Jess to come in so quickly. It isn't what you think, I have it all planned out. I just haven't finished typing it all up yet. Besides, this is only going to be a 5 chapter story, plus an epilouge that'll be a lot like a 6th chapter. So it kind of has to be fast. This chapter is no acception for slowing things down. In fact, I jumped ahea to get the story moving a bit. In all honesty, it's a filler, and this note is probably longer than the dang chapter anyways.

Moving on, I'd like to inform you that I've been typing this with a British accent in my mind. And...I'm from California so I have no right to have an accent onther than valley girl or hick (Northern California) so...if the language seems too formal I apologize. Blame the book I'm reading (the accent applies for this A/N, as well). Wow I sure know how to ramble. Sorry sorry sorry! The next chapter should get things moving along better. And it's a fast paced story just...go with me.

THE END of this dang note.

**Disclaimer:** Nope, still don't own Bridge to Terabithia, Elsewhere, Josh, AnnaSophia...and so on. Sad day.

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No Such Thing

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I blinked up at the handsome boy, hoping my mind was simply playing tricks on me. I silently examined him as he stood towering over me, a quizzical expression on his face.

Of course it was Jess. Although he was taller (then again, I was much shorter at the age of nine), leaner, more muscular, he still had the same bright hazel-green eyes. His brown hair I remembered as long, shaggy, and character-giving was now short, making him look so grown up that it actually almost frightened me.

"I'm sorry." The deep, hoarse voice that exited his lips was unusual but quite familiar to my ears. I blinked, realizing he must have thought I was staring; staring was Jess' thing, not mine. My mouth opened slightly as I prepared to ask what he meant, but he spoke again. "Could you tell me where I am?"

My eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion. He didn't know where he was? Obviously, he had to know where he was if he had come from Montegro Bay to find me.

"I'm sort of lost." He continued after what I assumed were an uncomfortable few seconds of silence. Oh, my goodness. He didn't know who I was. "Can you like, talk?" He asked hesitantly.

"Oh." I realized I hadn't said one thing since seeing him. "You…you said you were lost?" My voice was quiet and timid. He nodded and began talking about how he'd ended up here so late at night, but I wasn't listening.

Why was I acting this way? I wasn't sure I wanted him to know who I was…yes, that was it. It was because of what I'd told Uncle Levi. Jess was better off without me, I was sure of it.

As he continued talking, he blinked slightly down at me, as if unsure if he made a stupid move choosing to ask me for help. The questioning look on his face made memories of our short time together over-take my mind. It made me wonder what I seemed to think of every night before I feel asleep: how did he feel about me, back when we were twelve-year-olds? I thought I loved him, but I came to the conclusion that I wasn't even a teenager. Kids can't be in love. He was my best friend, and in all honesty that was all I need from him; a true friend. Still, I'd always wanted to know his thoughts on the subject….and suddenly a brilliant came to me.

Jesse didn't know who I was. I could befriend him, and somehow get it out of him. I would get much more sleep knowing. It was perfect. I found myself smiling, wondering what I could learn of this new Jesse Aarons.

"Wait, what's your name?" He asked, pulling me back to our twisted reality. I hesitated, second-guessing my idea I had only seconds ago thought brilliant. 

"Bertha." I blurted out. My cheeks flushed pink as I realized what I had said. That name definitely didn't suit me in the slightest, and I knew he noticed. His eyebrow rose suspiciously. 

"Bertha?" He repeated slowly. 

"No." I bit my lip.

"No?" He repeated, again.

"What are you, an echo?" I put my adolescent hands on my equally adolescent hips. This seemed to amuse him for some reason, because a low chuckle emitted from his throat.

"Bertha just doesn't seem to fit you. You look more like a…." He paused, inclining his head down towards me as I shifted awkwardly on my feet. Oh no, what if he recognized me? I couldn't let him see my face to long, so quickly a pulled my hood of my over-sized jacket over my head and stared at my feet. "Taylor." He finished, sounding proud of himself.

"_Taylor_?" That name fit me as well as a giant's belt. Did giants have belts? I'm sure they did. Something had to hold up those large pants. Now, what their pants were made of, I wonder –

"Are you not a Taylor?" Jess, once again, brought me out of my thoughts. I looked up, peering at him curiously beneath the hood.

"No. I'm a Bertha."

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That was three days ago. Jess discovered he had a great aunt a few years older than him living in Montegro Bay, so he was staying with her. He visited me every day, which made me feel special. Plus there were now teenage boys around; at least not real-age ones.

I told Jess my uncle could maybe help him find who he was looking for. Of course, I had to pull Uncle Levi aside and explain to him, without the finer details, my plan. It went something like this:

Levi: Who is that?

Me: Jess.

Levin: Really!

Me: But I'm not Leslie.

Here, he just gave me a strange look, but I was used to it.

Me: I'm Bertha.

Levi: Why?

Me: Go with it.

And there you have it.

Anyways, Jess seemed to forget he was looking for someone, and decided to play interviewer to me. I forgot how many questions the boy could ask in under one minute. He covered a variety of topics. Some, like ones about Elsewhere, I could answer. Others like, "why do we have pinky _toes_?" I could not. Strange, that Aarons kid.

We always sat on my front porch when we talked. I enjoyed people-watching; Jess liked getting hit with the sprinklers whenever Uncle Levi felt the need to turn them on and annoy me to know end.

Of course, I had to write up a whole back story of my 'Bertha' persona. I wrote it diligently at work, always coming up with new things my character could have in her life. Jess seemed fascinated by my so-called memories, and I was – needless to say – enjoying the attention. And yet, I still had heard nothing from him about Leslie Burke; he didn't mention my real name once.

Today, I realized something. He seemed awkward around me at most times, unless we were sitting on the porch steps, the sun beating down on the areas that weren't shaded. It must be because I was a child in his eyes.

"Jess." I approached the conversation cautiously. We'd been sitting in a comfortable silence after a long argument of turkey or pork bacon. He glanced at me in acknowledgment over the rim of his glass of lemonade. "Do you know how old I am?"

"Nine, Bee." He said flatly, setting his clear cup down and turning his body towards me, preparing for what he knew he needed to pay attention to. Bee was his nickname for me; he really hated the name Bertha.

"Well here, yes." I tilted my head to the side, Uncle's faded baseball cap keeping my hair from my eyes. Jess raised an eyebrow curiously. "Technically, if I hadn't…left Earth, I would be fifteen this year." I explained. Jess leaned back against the railing, taking a moment to process this information.

"So Bertha from Berlin, without a German accent" He stated after a moment – just part of my Bertha Background - smiling, "You're my age."

"Technically." I repeated, pointing my index finger at him seriously.

"Too bad we died….what, three years apart?" He nodded, answering his own question. "Shame." He looked across the street at my twenty-year-old neighbor, who used to be a scientist but now ran the Bingo Club of my town, pulled into his driveway.

"You know, you never talk about your Earth life." I ventured casually, staring at the ice cubes in the drink I clasped in my hands. Jess merely shrugged, as he always did when the topic was brought up. "Don't you think I've told you enough? I believe I deserve _some_ information, Aarons." I prodded. This caused him to laugh and shake his head.

"Bee, I don't know. My life just wasn't interesting." He brushed my attempt off and picked his drink up again. Ouch. That stung. I looked away from him and sighed, hoping he would feel bad and cave. He didn't. "Oh don't give me that. I had four sisters; therefore I have absolutely no sympathy for your sad act."

"Four sisters, really?" My voice was bright as I immediately turned to him again. He'd just opened up a little without even knowing. He blinked, and then sighed. "What were their names?"

"Bee…"

"I was an only, orphan child, Jess." I insisted, leaning towards him to show him my puppy-dog face. "You can't hold this information back from me."

"I just…I don't want to talk about it." He shook his head firmly, and I gave up.

"Fine." I tried to think of a way out of the awkward silence that was guaranteed to follow. "What do you think of the word 'moist'?"

"What?" His eyebrows furrowed curiously at me.

"What are you whating me about? I asked you a simple question."

"Well…"

"I hate the word, 'moist'."

"Really?" He laughed lightly. "I hate the word 'Bertha'."

"The word Bertha hates you."

"A word doesn't have feelings, Bee. It can't hate me."

"If you can hate a word, it's only fair for the word to be able to hate you. Equal opportunities, Jess, haven't you heard? It's like, a law in schools."

That's how our conversations always went: from serious, to light-hearted, to funny, to sentimental, to just flat-out bizarre. Ah, but what is afterlife without variety?

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**Ah, the joy of fillers...review? Yes? Possibly? No? Okay...I'll go cry in a corner now...a corner in Canada.**


	3. Postcard and an Epic Burn

**A/N:** First of all: I give you ALL permisson to shoot me. With knives. And maybe even sporks, if you're _really _annoyed with me.

Now that I have that out of the way...my school is over in two days. D And I just whipped this out in half an hour, ignore any mistakes. Actually don't ignore them, tell me. I really should get a beta reader or something...I've never had one of those before. Hah. I am listening to Justin Timberlake and for some reason his music is making me bouncy (shudder).

I apologize for the rambling. I'm still on a sugar high from my sixteenth birthday on Saturday. :

**Disclaimer**: I love , but why in Elsewhere would I be on here if I _owned_ any of this?

Exactly.

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Epic Burn

Two weeks had passed since I'd first bumped – literally – into Jesse. He had gotten a job working as a fisherman. I'd constantly alert how absolutely boring that sounded, since all he did was help the older rather, younger men with cleaning and such. He's always retorted with the same comeback: sitting behind a desk all day wasn't much better.

I had to admit, though, I did love going down to the pier and sitting on the edge as I waited for his boat to return. The ocean breeze was so calming, my skin always tingling when I left the cool, salty breeze. Today as I sat there, watching the red boat I knew as Jess' assigned one on the horizon, I thought about what he'd finally opened up to me about: his life.

Well, some of it. He'd still never mentioned me, and only once had he spoke of who I knew to be his favorite family member – Maybelle. This was very strange. He'd talk about the rest of his family, how even though his older sisters and Joyce annoyed him to death (no pun intended), he still missed them. And how his parents may have been strict, but he loved them more than anything. But the one time he mentioned Maybelle, all he said was that she was a princess in his eyes. I thought it very sweet; of course he didn't know I'd seen him taking Maybelle to our secret place.

But there was something else…something he was hiding from me. I could see it in his eyes. It was something that hurt him inside, and caused him to shy away when I confronted the fact he wasn't telling me something. It was something bad.

"Hey there, Bee." His cheery voice ripped me from my thoughts, causing me to jump. I'd been so lost in my thoughts, I hadn't even noticed his boat return to harbor. I glanced back at the horizon; wait, it _hadn't_ returned. I looked back at Jesse in confusion. He chuckled. "Oh. I took the day off. I had an unexpected surprise this morning." He grinned brightly.

"Really?" I scooted back from the edge of the high pier before standing and facing him, adjusting the headband I'd recently received from Uncle Levi (he told me I needed to stop stealing his caps, and look more like an actual nine-year-old girl). Jess nodded. "What was it?"

"I had an idea!" He exclaimed, as if he was about to burst from his pride

"Oh how very rare." I taunted; I couldn't help myself. He gave me a look, causing me to giggle innocently. "Sorry. What was your idea, oh noble philosopher of Elsewhere?" I was extremely tempted to make a comment about how John Locke lived just a few miles from the beach, but I held my tongue.

"I know where to find Maybelle."

This certainly caught me off-guard. What in the world – excuse me, Elsewhere - could he mean? It was so easy to find someone on Earth through the giant binoculars of sorts. All you had to do was put the money in and think of them.

"Excuse me?" I questioned unsurely. He laughed, as if my non-understanding amused him. I frowned and crossed my arms.

"I know where to find her! I….she sent me a letter. She's not very happy with me, but – " I cut him off abrubtly.

"Maybelle _died_?" I nearly shrieked in surprise. His eyes widened slightly. Oh, no. I forgot I wasn't really supposed to know who she was. A blush made it's way onto my face and I looked down at my feet. "I…I mean…"

"Well, yes." He continued after clearing his throat. "She died about two months ago. That's why I came here." He nodded as I glanced back up at him, cheeks still hot from embarrassment. It took a moment, but his words registered and caused me to scowl.

"You came here?" I repeated slowly. "But…but how? Are you not – " A gasp escaped my throat as an idea hit me. "Are you not dead?" It hardly came out as a whisper.

"Of course I'm dead." Once again he seemed entertained at my reaction. "Live people can't come to Elsewhere."

"But Jesse, how did you _come_ here? It isn't a choice. Once you die, you're on the ship to Elsewhere. You can't turn back, it's nearly impossible." I said it all quickly, but he seemed to understand.

"Bertha…my dieing was a choice." He spoke each word deliberately, as if this conversation was taking place with an incompetent _fool_. I hated when he did that to me. I was only nine on the outside; for the most part.

"Explain." I demanded with a childish pout. So much for only looking my age…

Jess sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. He was frustrated, but I didn't care. None of this was making sense to me. It was impossible to _choose_ this…

"I committed suicide, Bee. I killed myself." Again, his words came out slowly, but he wasn't looking at me now. His head was tilted back, face toward the sky; or, the illusion of the sky.

Jess had committed suicide? No…that wasn't something Jess would even consider doing. I knew he loved Maybelle – she was the only sister he could even stand for longer than ten seconds – but he would die just to be with her? This notion fascinated me.

"But why?" I let the words slip out without thinking twice. Instantly I regretted it, because he looked sharply to me again, eyes flaming.

"I couldn't go live like that anymore. Maybelle was the only person that understood me better then Leslie." His voice broke on my name. An unusually comforting feeling coursed through my veins. I hadn't heard my name come from his mouth in so long.

"Leslie?" I prodded softly, unsure if he would continue the conversation. When he nodded hesitantly, pain replacing the fire in his hazel eyes, I knew it was my chance to find out what I'd been originally trying to discover all along; his real thoughts about my Earth-self. "Who is she?"

Jess sighed and took the spot on the edge of the dock I had been moments before. I followed suit and placed myself next to him.

"She is – was….she was my best friend." He spoke after a long silence, staring down at the gentle waves far below us. I was silent, letting him take his time to continue. "She died when we were twleve." His voice was soft. "I loved her more than anything in the world. She taught me so much, Bee." Jess sighed and glanced at me with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You remind me of her. It's so easy to talk to you; you kind of bring out the best in me."

It was times like these I wish I had an oversized baseball hat on. My eyes were wide; no one had ever said anything like that to me. Not even while I was living. I wanted to grab him, hug him, never let him go. I wanted to tell him that he meant the same to me, that he had been – and still was – the most important thing in my life. But I stayed still, because I knew I couldn't ever do that. I couldn't tell him who I was….I'd lied to him.

I'd lied about who I was. Why did I do that? Couldn't I have taken the simple road and just said right out that I was Leslie Burke? No…because I wasn't the same. The Leslie he remembered wasn't who I was anymore – to him, at least. I was still that girl who'd let him find himself within me. But not anymore; now, I was a child.

That was the first time I'd admitted it to myself. I was a child. I could practically feel the knowledge I'd possessed in my pervious life slipping from my increasingly-younger brain and away forever. I wasn't her. I wasn't _Jesse's_ Leslie Burke. Now, I was Jesse's Bertha. The same person, yet so completely different.

I hadn't realized I was crying until Jess awkwardly pulled me into his side, hugging me and asking if I was alright. It took a moment for me to catch my breath, but I managed.

"I-I'm fine, Jesse. Just sorry." I whispered, my throat aching. "So sorry. I wish you wouldn't have done that."

"I'm glad I did. Now I can find Maybelle." He assured me quietly. I lifted my head from against his shoulder, eyes red. I was sure I looked a mess, but nine-year-olds really shouldn't care all that much. Especially me – I never really had.

"Yes. I'll help you." I nodded once, hoping to regain my dignity. "What was your idea?"

"More like….postcard." He admitted, letting go of me. My brow furrowed.

"She sent you a postcard?"

"Yeah! I have it right here." He pulled a folded, thick card from his pocket and handed it to me.

_Damn you to hell, Jess Aarons. I cannot believe you offed yourself just to find me! Leslie would never approve of this. And yes, I _hope_ that struck a nerve, you arrogent…ugh. I'm only nine, I shouldn't be thinking mean things about my brother. But when I get a hold of you, you are so in trouble mister! _

_-May_

_P.S. I found her._

I nearly laughed, but tears were slowly rolling down my blotched cheeks again. Maybelle had such a strong personality, even now. I looked to Jess, seeing him smile faintly at the crumpled card.

"She's something, eh?" I just nodded in response.

"When she says, 'I found her', she means Leslie, doesn't she?" I asked, feeling selfish for the subject change, but I had to know.

"I'm assuming." Jess stated, his eyes suddenly bright. "The address is from Montegro Bay. That's not far. We can go down there today, and – "

"I can't go." My abrupt interuption confused him, by the look on his face.

"Why not? Earlier you said you would help."

"I…I know, I just…" Biting my lip, I tried to think of a way out of this.

"Please, Bertha?" He begged, eyes hopeful. "You'd love Maybelle. You two are the same age…technically." He paused. "Anyways. It might be the last time I get to hang out with you like this, anyways."

"What do you mean?" I blinked, not expecting to hear that.

"Well, when I find my sister, I'm going to live with her and our cousin." He explained, his cheery smile back. I suddenly realized it was fake.

"Oh…" I was scowling again, and trying not to let my bottom lip stick out in a pout.

"So please come with me? I won't make fun of your name the whole time." He promised quickly. He really wanted me to come, didn't it? It shouldn't surprise me as much as it did. I sighed after a few seconds, and his smile turned real; he knew that meant I'd given in. "Thanks." He said honestly.

"I can't miss a chance to meet a potential partner in tormenting you." I said easily. He laughed loudly at that.

"Maybe I shouldn't _let_ you come." He joked.

"Too late, you've convinced me. I'll just follow you." I grinned lightly at him. "And just so you know, you're going to be smacked in the face with the biggest fish your boat caught without you." I added, rather randomly. His face fell, and he looked unsure. "I'm serious. Uncle Levi worked on the boats for years. He still smells like seafood sometimes."

"Ew." Jess made a face.

"Your own fault you're so caught up in your once-in-a-lifetime brilliant moment." I wrinkled my nose at him. He reached over and pushed my shoulder. I screamed, not used to his strength as I was pushed forward toward the waves. He laughed and caught my arm, pulling me so I was sitting farther back.

"You're such a blonde."

"Yeah? Well…at least _I_ have an excuse."

"Alright, you got me." He sighed and rose to his feet, pulling me up as well. "I won't argue with that." He shot me a lopsided grin as he started pulling me away from the end of the dock, still having a grasp around my small wrist. "Tomorrow, we're going to Montegro Bay."

"I thought you said tonight." I commented as I stumbled along beside him.

"I did. But now I have to think of a comeback to that epic burn you just gave me."

Kind of lame, I admit it. Like I said, half an hour. Anyways, review pleaseee? Some of you still aren't. A simple smiley (or frowny) face would make me unbelievably happy.

In the mean time, check out my profile and stalk me! Stalking is awesome. andheartssemicolon


	4. Long Overdue UPDATE

Wow, I think I'm basically the worst person alive right now? The last time I updated this I had just turned sixteen. Now I'm eighteen and going to college in three weeks [Sonoma state, yeah?]. I always hated how authors on FanFiction would post these epic stories that really caught my attention and then just disappear for months or years at a time. How could they do that? It's so rude!

Hypocriteee. I don't know how this happened. I have the next part of the story half typed up on my home computer! I'm still home so it's not like it's been far from me…and there are only two chapters left, I clearly stated in the beginning that there were only five chapters and maybe and epilogue to finish this thing off.

A lot has happened since I started writing this story, in fact I started to write a book [or two]. Hah. I attended an amazing program called CSSSA, three s's. Google it. Alumni included Zac Efron, James Franco, Katherine McPhee, and Jim Parsons [BIG BANG THEORY'S SHELDON]. I was accepted for, believe it or not, creative writing. And I am currently working on finishing my manuscript and getting published, which I am fully aware will be pushed aside when I start college. Anyway. You don't care about this at all, but it's 1:55 in the morning and I felt like writing it out.

I am going to try and finish typing this story over the next week and just get it done. I don't know if my writing style has changed much [well it has but I might not have it come through to finish this] but I really do want to finish it. I have been thinking about this story a lot over the past two years and I hate leaving it incomplete. Even if none of you receive this update or care to check, that's alright. I want to finish it for myself. Thank you very much, I still get a huge smile on my face and my heart warms up every time I read the reviews I have been left.

Much love,

Lorann


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